I thought that once a week, perhaps on Sundays, I will publish one of my sonnets, the Sunday Sonnet or such it will be called. So today I have selected one of the first in a series of sonnets regarding life in Spain. It is part of a compilation from a book of sonnets I am in the process of making.
SONNET OF RAIN
JUST CRY FOR ME, O, AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS.
PLEASE SEND DOWN YOUR TEARS. DO WHAT I CANNOT.
BUT INDEED WHAT I FEEL. FEEL MY HEART NOW.
TOUCH MY SOUL AND CRY FOR ME. CRY FOR ME.
WATER THE CRUSTED SOIL THAT LONGS FOR YOU.
JUST AS I BLEED, O, SOOTHE MY CRUSHED HEART.
SO CRY FOR ME. AND WHILE YOU ARE WORKING
REMEMBER THIS BECAUSE I AM CRIED OUT.
PIERCE ME THROUGH, O, AND SPARE ME NO SORROW.
LIFE AROUND ME APPEARS TO BE HOLLOW.
I HAVE EXAMINED THIS FAR TOO LONG NOW.
TO STOP THIS ANALYSING IS GONE NOW.
SO CRY FOR ME, O AIR OF THE MOUNTAINS.
JUST SEND DOWN YOUR TEARS. DO WHAT I CANNOT.
written by jori sams